


Iterations

by Druddigonite



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Ficlet Collection, First Green/Red of the new year!, M/M, no beta we post our first drafts like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2019-10-02 13:38:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17265164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Druddigonite/pseuds/Druddigonite
Summary: A collection of self-indulgent Green/Red ficlets.





	1. Nuzzle

**Author's Note:**

> This is where I dump my ficlets that are often more spontaneous and less developed than my main works. Expect various degrees of coherence.
> 
> Chapter 1: There are three reactions to any given situation: fight, flight, or freeze. Green is the last one.  
> Chapter 2: Red's stomach cannot hold alcohol. He learns that the hard way.  
> Chapter 3: 50 one-sentence drabbles from the Beta theme on LJ.  
> Chapter 4: Apparently, Red thought as he walked through the pokemon tower, crescent-shape nail marks fresh on his arm, Green was terrified of ghosts.

There were two reactions to any given situation: fight or flight. 

It was one of the first things Green was taught in trainer school. When a wild pokemon springs at you, you need to make the split decision between countering it with your own or fleeing to battle another day. He had to sit through a whole lesson of the boring stuff as his teacher highlighted the perks of fighting or fleeing. 

Green always saw himself as a fighter. Sequestered in the safety of his own room, a much younger Green would hold his Dragonite figurine (because how could the great Green train anything lower?) and thrust it at his opponent. The opposing figurine (something inferior but still obviously strong, since Green didn’t bother with weaklings) would be sent careening into a wall before bouncing onto the floor, defeated. And the younger Green would stand and bask in his victory. 

That was child’s play, however. In the real world Green never had a dragonite, but began his journey with a small charmander in his arms. The wild pokemon were bigger too — he’d never realized how pidgey pecks _hurt_ and that spearows were bullies in big numbers — and his pokemon had limited health, so Green ended up fleeing more often than he’d like to admit. But he and Charmander still fought when it came down to it, because Green was a fighter at heart. 

Or so he thought.

It wasn’t until Viridian Forest did he encounter _real_ danger. A life-or-death situation kind of danger, because while pidgeys and spearows hurt a lot they never tried to kill Green. He was trying through to Viridian City when he carelessly stumbled into a beedrill nest. All of a sudden, he was surrounded on all sides by big, angry jerk-bugs. 

_Fight them,_ he heard himself whisper. Eevee was too young and untrained to be facing anything, but he had Charmeleon and Pidgeotto attached to his belt. All it took was a couple movements with his arm, a press to the button, a flick of the wrist as he threw. Easy-peasy, he’s done it before. Many times, in fact. 

Except. 

He. Couldn’t. Move. 

It was like his entirely body had powered down. He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. He could only stare in horror as the beedrills pounced. 

There were three reactions to any given situation: fight, flight, or freeze. Green didn’t realize this until he woke up in the ER section of the Viridian Pokemon Center, face covered in welts. 

After that...incident, Green took it upon himself to cull the instinct out of him, so he’d never act like a sawsbuck in headlights again. It kind of worked; his muscles no longer locked up when he was in serious danger, but the habit never truly went away. He just hoped it wouldn’t embarrass him later in his life.

~

He and Red were sitting on his bed, holding hands. Green had recently been chosen as the Viridian City Gym Leader, something he never realized he wanted until his boyfriend had brought it up to him. It was...great. Amazing, actually, considering the sorry state of his life the past few years. It felt great to be in a position of authority again, to be proud of something he earned by himself.

The new apartment came with the position, and that was where they were sleeping for the night. After sleeping on rock the last couple of years, the mattress and sheets seemed like heaven on earth. 

Green wasn’t ready to sleep yet, however. He was psyching himself up for the next day, chattering on and on to Red about his plans for the gym’s renovations. 

His boyfriend was content to listen to him, red eyes drooping slightly. Red had announced his resignation of his Champion title just today. The poor guy was probably too exhausted to reply after braving through a barrage of public meetings and interviews, though he still gave indications that he was listening (the small huffs, the shifting of fingers, the upward twitch of his lips). In a way, Green was talking to calm both their nerves. 

He was so occupied with calculating how to spread his budget evenly (“I need to hire some trainers, don’t I? That means advertising openings and setting up interview dates.”) that he didn’t notice Red sidling closer. Their legs were now pressed flush against each other, Red was leaning on his side. Green stopped. 

“Uh, Red?” They were dating now, sure, but haven’t gone much further than holding hands. 

Red put his whole body weight on Green as he, without ceremony, planted a kiss to his lips. It wasn’t a quick one either, long and fumbling and sloppy. 

Green gaped at him, acutely aware of how his face was heating up. “Red, What the f-” 

He felt his throat locking up, and suddenly nothing was coming out anymore. He tried finishing his sentence a couple times before ultimately giving up as his brain shut down. Beep beep, does not compute. 

_Well, shit._

Red pulled away with a look of bewilderment before the surprise slowly melted into a grin. The smug bastard. Green frowned — or tried to, at least — at Red, though his face probably still resembled a goldeen’s. His boyfriend nudged him, and suddenly his limbs were noodles and he was flopping on the bed with a soft _thump_ , his face pressed uncomfortably against the fabric. 

Above him, he heard a soft huffing sound that could’ve only been Red laughing breathily. Green’s cheeks were burning now; he closed his eyes and imagined himself sinking into the floor. 

A couple seconds later, Green felt something round and cool and decidedly not Red’s lips press against his mouth. He opened his eyes to see Red hovering above him, smirking as he jokingly tried to feed him a lum berry. Green’s heart skipped a beat when he saw his smile. It was the widest he’d seen in weeks, even if it was at his own expense. 

“N-mph-no , I’m not a pokemon. Stop it.” His mind was starting to clear up now, so he gently grabbed Red’s wrist and maneuvered the lum berry away from him. Red plopped down on the bed next to him, still grinning. 

“I know how to shut you up now.” he said. 

Green groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Great, now you’ll never let me live it down.” 

No response. Green rubbed his face vigorously. “Right. Anyways. So if everything is completed on schedule, we should be ready to open in the next two weeks, trainers or no trainers. I’ve added three extra days for safety in case the tile shipments arrive a couple days late, or if the electrician reschedul-”

Red’s eyes glinted as he leaned in for another kiss, and Green’s mind went blank.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The only reason Green got out of the beedrill situation was because Red found him being swarmed, defeated all the beedrill with his pikachu, and carried him to the ER. Green was fortunately unconscious during the whole ordeal; Red left before he woke up, so he never knew.


	2. Belch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning that I have no idea what I'm talking about. Drink responsibly, kids.

The urinals in the men’s bathroom were rancid and stained with a number of...substances, and Red was currently getting well acquainted with its surface. 

Technically, there was a stall just a few feet away, with more privacy in case someone happened to walk in. Technically, they were all empty, so he could take whichever one he liked. But technicalities didn’t matter to Red’s internal organs, all of which seemed to be waging war against each other. There was little he could do but clutch the sides of dirtied porcelain and wait for the sweet release of the unconscious-

His stomach _rippled_ , and Red’s train of thought went out the window. 

Dimly, he heard the soft creak of the bathroom door open. More noises seeped in from the doorway: the blare of an overheard sound system playing overused pop songs, the incessant clicking of slot machines, the jingle of coin on coin. He was in the Game Corner, he recalled, chasing down rumors of Team Rocket behind its operations. You’d think international crime syndicates could stand to keep their restrooms cleaner. 

There was a hand resting on his back, but that was when another contraction hit and Red was doubling over, vomiting into the urinal again. Through the haze of everything, he heard a very obnoxious, very familiar cough. 

“You know,” Green said, “The stalls’re right there.” 

Red muttered grumpily into the clogged drain. “No.”

“I wouldn’t have asked you to take shots if I knew you were this much of a lightweight, you fucking idiot.” 

Involuntary shudder. “Mmph.”

A pause. Then he felt something hard and cool being shoved against his shoulder. “Here. Hold the bottom part of the glass; I don’t want your pee-crusted hands touching mine.” 

Red gratefully took the water (grabbing at Green’s hands, making him flinch away with a yelp) and washed down the acid in his throat. He was sitting on the cold tiled floor now, vision spotting at the edges. He took a big gulp of the stale bathroom air. 

It smelled amazing. 

Green watched him a little ways away, back bent awkwardly in a way that was so different from his uptight, cocky self, Red had to smile. 

“Loser,” his rival sneered, hauling him up with wrench to his arm, “You should come back to the ‘Center with me. Some custodian’s gonna come in, think you’re shit, and mop you up.” Green’s voice was sardonic, but his face was twisted with concern, his posture oddly wary. Guilty about what he had done, Red realized. 

He allowed himself to be hauled onto his feet and led out of the bathroom, leaning on Green’s shoulder as the trainer hissed, complaining about Red “staining his jacket”. 

He never did shove him off though.


	3. Double Edge

#01 - Walking  
There are times, Red thinks as he walks down the beaten roads, that each step is a journey in and of itself. 

#02 - Waltz  
In the heady haze of battle with the afternoon sun beating down on their backs, Red likened their trade of blows a dance of blood and power, the undulating choreography of two halves in a whole.

#03 - Wishes  
Their pinkies linked together seamlessly, hushed promises let loose in the charged gap between; perhaps that’s why it hurt so much, that none of them came true. 

#04 - Wonder  
“I didn’t know you cared,” Red breathed in surprise, fingers running along the rim of a red and white cap that Green gifted him. 

#05 - Worry  
"We’re just taking a look around Route 1 without telling Gramps, you big wuss, how bad can it be?”

#06 - Whimsy  
With his recent gym earnings, Green bought several hyper potions for himself, then, remembering how battered Red’s team sometimes was, bought a few more.

#07 - Waste  
There was blood on his boots and too many faults in his hands (their color reminds him of a person he doesn’t remember).

#08 - Whiskey and rum  
"Let’s get wasted” was not an invitation to puke on his shirt; Red had apparently missed that memo.

#09 - War  
They were the honorable resistance that fended off schoolyard jeers with barbed retorts and fearsome pinches—until Green decided to join the other side.

#10 - Weddings  
Red was married to nights spent amidst starless skies and rolling plains as much as Green pined for the recognition he’d never get, and they’d chase their own brides side by side but never cross paths. 

#11 - Birthday  
His turning of fourteen was spent in a pokemon center; when he glanced at his fingers, rough and calloused, all he could see was the childhood that slipped away between them.

#12 - Blessing  
After bedtime, they’d sometimes sneak out under their guardians’ watchful gazes to fall asleep under the stars; it is during those breathless moments that Red truly appreciates how great it is to be alive. 

#13 - Bias  
Regional crime syndicates should be dealt with champion of the region and not a gangly teenage boy, but when Green voices this to Red he shoves him away and whispers: "Well, champion’s what we’re aiming for, isn’t it?”

#14 - Burning  
Green’s frustration is wet on his face, but when he swallows, his loss (and he’s lost so much, even when he tries so hard) scorches the back of his throat.

#15 - Breathing  
It’s funny how his first kiss is on waterlogged lips, hands furiously pumping a stilling chest as he tries to force the sea from Green’s lungs. 

#16 - Breaking  
Green’s voice broke when he was fifteen; he, briefly, wondered how Red’s has changed, wishing he’d stop whispering and raise his voice just one damn time. 

#17 - Belief  
To Green, the championship is glory, is fame, is the new life he forged for himself from nitty-gritty backwater roads and the shadow of a grandfather’s reputation; to Red, it’s his ticket home. 

#18 - Balloon  
He prided himself as a level-headed kind of guy, but that failed to explain why he felt as if his chest was expanding, like his heart was going to explode, whenever Red even hinted at a smile.

#19 - Balcony  
The day he moved to Pallet Town, he’d found a five year old Red sequestered outside during the welcome party, trying to ward off a panic attack, and quietly curled up beside him.

#20 - Bane  
Apparently, Red thought as he walked through the pokemon tower, crescent-shape nail marks fresh on his arm, Green was terrified of ghosts. 

#21 - Quiet  
Sometimes when Green gets too talkative Red gives him a peck on the lips, just to shut him up.

#22 - Quirks  
Green’s "smell ya later”s were frankly never as cool as he made them out to be.

#23 - Question  
"Hey Red, when will you man up, buy a thunderstone, and evolve that damned rat of yours?”

#24 - Quarrel  
They fought viciously the night before their respective journeys; bonds of childhood strewn across the dirt as two boys walked away strangers.

#25 - Quitting  
Red had never wanted to be a trainer, a vigilante, a wayside hero, yet he trudges on anyways, fallen vows flaking bit by bit beneath his feet.

#26 - Jump  
Despite being a head shorter as a child, Red grew to be taller than Green, something the latter did not take well.

#27 - Jester  
Green always enjoys cracking jokes, Red remarks as he wrings cheri juice from his shirt into the school bathroom drains, though it would be nice if he’d stop using him as the scapegoat.

#28 - Jousting  
They were Icarus, spiralling higher and higher on newfound freedom until the sun shore off their waxen wings; from there, it was a long way down.

#29 - Jewel  
Red’s mother always wore an engagement ring—bright ruby and gilded silver—until she sold it to fund his journey; she always seemed so sad when she stared at it.

#30 - Just  
Red shoved himself between a dirty bucket and mop before slamming the storage closet shut; Green focused on the procession of boots beneath the door as Rockets ran by instead of the body pressed tense beside him.

#31 - Smirk  
To others Green’s attitude was absolute, his confidence infallible, but all that Red saw in his smile was the waver of broken glass.

#32 - Sorrow  
His eyes were puffy and his shirt was soaked, but neither said anything about that afterwards, not when there was nothing left to say.

#33 - Stupidity  
Green’s vernacular starts out colorful and seething, but slowly devolves into a whispered chant of "stupid, stupid, stupid,” as he splints Red’s broken leg.

#34 - Serenade  
Again, Green commands, and Red follows charmeleon’s ensuing flames when they weave filigree into the dusk.

#35 - Sarcasm  
"We’re still best friends, right?”  
"Yeah sure, why not?”

#36 - Sordid  
"We were never friends,” he sneers, and Red doesn’t fight back as he’s pushed into the mud.

#37 - Soliloquy  
Green didn’t realize until twenty minutes into his lecture on quantum pokeball mechanics that Red had already left the room. 

#38 - Sojourn  
From where he stood, Pallet Town had been reduced to a small blotch on the hillside; Red stopped to take one last glance at the ruddy rooftops before turning around and never looked back (no matter how much he wanted to). 

#39 - Share  
"Do you think the Indigo League will let us have dual reign?”

#40 - Solitary  
Red smiled uneasily at the last person who congratulated him, back stinging from his over-enthusiastic clap; there were so many people at the championship celebration, and yet he’d never felt more alone.

#41 - Nowhere  
When it came to telling Red to stop getting so off track, Green felt like it was he that was walking in circles.

#42 - Neutral  
The last time Green saw him amidst the jagged shale of that damned mountain, Red’s face had been as frozen as the ice around him. 

#43 - Nuance  
Behind all his bravado, Green always spoke in subtleties: a curve of the mouth when Charmander mastered a new move, a tense of his shoulders in Lavender Town, the breathless passion in his voice when he challenged Red, the volume of his silence after every loss.

#44 - Near  
The championship arena seemed so huge at that moment, two friends a few meters from each other yet miles away.

#45 - Natural  
Laughter used to come as easy as breathing to Red, Green remembers, but they’ve stopped after he reached ten and he refuses to think about why. 

#46 - Horizon  
The great peaks of Mount Silver pierces the junction between land and sky—a testament of the strength at summit as well as the sacrifices it takes to get there.

#47 - Valiant  
The main reason Red kept pursuing Team Rocket was (ironically) because of Green; he admired his rival’s tenacity, his courage to stand up no matter how hard or frequently he fell.

#48 - Virtuous  
Green knows that he should just drop the act and stop harassing Red, but that means the red-eyed trainer will forget who Green once was, and that’s what scares him the most. 

#49 - Victory  
Considering Red’s reputation as someone who almost never lost, it came to no surprise that he was still a sore loser; that didn’t stop Green from standing at the other side of the battlefield, open-mouthed and incredulous, as the trainer withdrew Pikachu with a pout.

#50 - Defeat  
There’s a single monitor in the Hall of Fame, casting too-bright light into empty halls; their words speak victory but all he feels is shame.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So apparently this is a prompts list now. 
> 
> If you want, feel free to suggest prompts I should fill based on these one-sentence stories. Most of them are vague enough that you can do anything with them anyways.


	4. Night Shade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for death (not Red or Green) and trauma.

As far as pokemon cemeteries went, Lavender Town sure lived up to its name. The tower had long been out of power; now the only sources of light were sparse candles left behind by its grieving denizens, rows of gravestones casting long shadows against cracked tiling. Night was fast falling, and a thick coat of fog had begun to carpet the ground. 

Red hushed Pikachu’s squeak when something rustled behind them. The graveyard had long fallen under, but beneath the miasma of death were the stirrings of a different life. A mother raticate darted out from the overgrowth, her offspring weaving behind her. A lonely cubone slept against a headstone. Occasionally black wisps flickered in the distance, the tell-tale sign of ghastly. For them, Lavender Town spoke of home. 

A different kind of noise caught Red’s attention—heavier, with an undertone of what sounded like cursing—and he craned his neck to see Green in the distance, his back to him as the self-proclaimed “pokemon master” tried to navigate through the increasingly thick fog. Instructing Pikachu to be quiet with a firm tap on his nose, Red edged closer. 

Green looked wound up. He has his shoulders hunched close to his neck, and there was a skip to his step that he always did when nervous (and always tried to deny right after). There was a swish of a tail—was that Eevee?—as Green tensed. 

Red could clearly hear mumbling now. Green seemed to whispering reassurances (quiet ones edged with nerves, gentle in a way he’s never heard Green speak in a long, long time) to—yep, there was the tail again—the eevee he clutched to his chest 

He didn’t know why Green was here; he’d known the boy long enough to know he absolutely despised ghosts, and this seemed counter-intuitive. Unless Green was...following him? To what, fight rumours of alleged criminal activity? No, that was stupid. Nobody sane should throw themselves into danger like that

Nonetheless, Green was getting twitchier by the minute, and Red was suddenly struck with a palpable fear that if Eevee didn’t get her trainer to calm down he’d be the one carrying both of them to the hospital. He rested a hand on Green’s shoulder in what he hoped was a concerned gesture.

“AAAAUGH!”

He hadn’t known it was physically possible to scream so loud. And high.

_WHAM_

...Or punch so hard, for that matter, as a fist connected with his cheek and he went down. 

“You’re a fucking asshole, Red,” Green snarled above him, tucking his hands back into his pants pockets—but not before Red saw how hard they were trembling. 

He tried to reorient his tongue, painfully aware of how both Eevee and Pikachu were staring at him in utter shock. “M’sorry.” 

“Like hell you are,” Green shot back, but he stepped back and scanned the area with a wary gaze. He didn’t offer a hand up, either from a hurt pride or some subconscious denial of his rival’s existence, so Red stayed on the ground. “Keep alert. You gave us away, and any minute now t-those Rocket scum might come out of the woodwork.”

“You could handle them.”

Red could see Green jolt a little in surprise, as if he hadn’t been expecting that. He furrowed his brows at him. Why was he surprised? Green bragged about his prowess more than Professor Oak reminded Red not to use his bike indoors. 

“That’s not the _point._ ” Green scowled. “This is a stealth mission, and w- _I_ can’t afford to get caught. That would reflect poorly on my reputation.” 

He turned away as Red pushed himself to his feet. “You’re distracting me from doing my job, R-you. Don’t make me mess it up.” 

His _job_? A bubble of fury swelled inside Red, pushing against his chest. Was he looking forward to facing with criminals? Of course Green would. Green, with an insatiable appetite for glory and recognition and a god complex as large as Arceus himself, who didn’t care that Red was only looking for pokemon just that he was in his way, him and his stupid entitlement issues—

Red swung a punch at him. With his noodle arms it ended up barely grazing Green’s jaw, but suddenly he found his back thrown against the cold stones, knuckles planting themselves into his rival’s stomach as Green struggled to pin him from above. They scuffled. Green managed to land a couple bruises on his arms and face before Red reared up and headbutted him firmly on the nose. 

As Green stumbled away to cradle his (likely broken) nose, Red felt a sharp nip on his ankle. He hissed and spun only to see Pikachu standing beside him, panicked, ears and tail erect. It was then that he heard them—the hushed voices of multiple Rockets, heading their way. 

So the rumours were true, after all. 

He followed Pikachu’s insistent tugging behind a large tombstone at the corner of the cemetery as the voices neared, brushing away the remains of what appeared to be an old rattata nest on the ground before peeking out from weathered granite. They were getting closer, not close enough to see their feet but enough to distinguish their footsteps. As Red scanned across the clearing, his heart sank. 

Green still had not moved from his position. 

Taking hurried but silent steps, silencing Eevee’s whines with a finger across her mouth before yanking Green by his collar. Green let a loud grunt of protest (“Did ya hear that Cody? Didn’t sound like no pokemon to me.”) that made Red wince. He clamped a hand over his rivals mouth and dragged the struggling preteen back to his hiding spot. His headbutt had apparently hurt Green pretty badly; he could feel warm wetness on the hand pressed on his mouth, and when they ducked past the last lit area it glittered dark with blood. 

“Looks like there’s activity, boys. Who knows, maybe the kids we mug today’ll have a little something on ‘em.” 

“Or maybe it’s ghosts.” 

Red felt Green stiffen against him as the Rockets emerged, talking to each other and shining flashlights around. Pikachu and Eevee, who had followed her owner behind the tombstone, stilled. 

“Huh, coulda sworn I heard something around here.”

“New rookie, huh? Better get used to it, because Lavender Town’s got a bad reputation with the supernatural. You’ll get used to the ghosts soon enough.

The footsteps drew to a stop near their hiding spot. Red tightened his arms around his rival’s body; he could feel Green’s heartbeat pound imperiously against his ribcage as the world held its breath.

“Speaking of ghosts, I think I see one beside you. Look out, aaaah!”

“Not funny Cody. Golbat, blow out all the candles.”

"Gol!"

A heavy breeze gusted through the area, and a pitch black darkness fell on the cemetery in a fraction of a second. There was silence punctuated only by the steady flaps of the golbat, before the footsteps drew away. Green began trembling, at first just barely but becoming more violent, his nails digging into the skin of Red's forearm. 

He held him until they could no longer hear the voices. Green started thrashing again; it wasn't until he clawed at the hand against his mouth that Red realised Green couldn't breathe with a broken nose.

Eevee crooned worriedly as Green gulped in air like a drowning man, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. It was dark enough that Red couldn't make out his figure. A wave of guilt washed over him.

"Fuck you, you always come and ruin everything," Green said the moment he caught his breath, and all of Red's sympathy flew out the window.

Not bothering to rebuke, Red picked up Pikachu and stood, following his mental map of the layout to where the exit was. So this was how Green Oak thanked people who saved him.

"Wait, hold on, don't go you asshole! No, no no no no. Come back, come back I can't get out of here on my own. Please. I-I need your help. I really do, I swear."

The brown-haired kid was practically pleading now, something he never did. Red stopped, recalled what Green did for his once-best friend when he was being battered by bullies (nothing), and started again. 

"RED!"

So Green did remember his name.

He let out two curt clicks, the signal for Flash, and Pikachu quickly flooded the area in light.

"Not so cocky anymore, hmm?" he said to the trembling body still huddled against the tombstone. In the mild light, Green looked awful; his hair was peppered in gravel, his clothes scuffed, his nosebleed merging with new tear tracks in an unholy mess. He was absolutely pitiful, and Red hated how his heart gave a twinge of concern in a rival who took pleasure in pushing him down. "What's wrong? Is widdle Gween scared of the dark?" He scuffed dirt at him, just like now the other boy used to. "About time you got a taste of your own medicine."

Green's breath hitched at the end. "Shut the hell u-up! This is personal, okay? You don't understand, Red, you never understand anything."

 _Understand?_ Red wanted to punch Green, scream his mind in words he would never be able to muster. _Do you understand what it's like to have your head forced down a toilet, or shoved into a locker, or getting eggs thrown at your body and having to wear it for the rest of the week because you can't afford more clothing, all while the person your mom sometimes invites over for dinner watches and laughs? Do you understand what you've put me through, personally?_

Instead, he watched his rival dip his head, tears running onto Eevee's mane. "It was after my parents died."

Green’s face was obscured by his hair, but Red could hear the pain in his voice as he continued. “Mom passed peacefully, in her sleep. She was suffering from stage four lung cancer and didn’t want to die in a hospital—I think she was happy to be with her family, in the end. When dad found out…he... I don’t remember what he did, but he didn’t want to live without her anymore. Daisy was at summer camp; it wasn’t until it ended and nobody came to pick her up that they found me in the house.” 

Red memory wasn’t the greatest, but he did remember the aftermath: his mother on the phone crying, a funeral the professor had to attend later that week, talk about a new kid in town—his age, five at the time. Rumours that he was trapped for a week in his house before authorities found him. 

He tried to imagine Green, just five years old and already an orphan, too short to reach the light switches, alone in the dark in a huge house with the bodies of his parents for company. 

No wonder he was scared of ghosts. 

Green sniffled and rubbed his eyes. Red had no idea what to do; he watched as his rival shakily stood up and headed deeper into the labyrinth of gravestones. The effects of Pikachu’s flash were starting to wane, and it wouldn’t be long before they were plunged into darkness again. He sighed. 

“Green.”

“Here. The exit’s this way.” He tried not to look at Green’s face, just grabbed the other boy’s wrist and pulled him in the opposite direction. Soon they were clear of the cemetery grounds. It was nighttime, but now the moon was clearly visible through the clouds, the air alive with the chirps of crickets. It wasn’t until they’d made it back to to Route 8 that Green stopped running. 

Red was suddenly aware they were now tightly holding hands, his grip somehow having slipped down during their trek. He let go, and Green turned to recall his eevee. Pikachu whined as the evolution pokemon disappeared in a flash of red light. 

Green said nothing, a stark contrast to his usual self. Red’s heart sank. 

“Green, I—”

“It’s fine.” Green turned around to grin at him. His head was a mess, but from the stinging on Red’s he knew his wasn’t much better. Beneath the mask, however, his rival's voice belied a detached hollowness. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you beforehand; that was my mistake.” Pidgeotto materialized by his side, already crouched and ready to be mounted. “I’ll see you in the next gym then, Red.” 

And with a gust and a storm of feathers, he was gone before Red could squeeze in another word. The chill of the night air bit into his skin, no longer warm with the other’s company.

 _I know you’re still hurting_ , he wanted to say (like when they were six, whispering secrets beneath a shared canopy of stars), _We were friends once, you know._

Pikachu tittered at his feet. Red continued back to Lavender Town, hoping that the next time they met it wouldn’t be on opposite sides of the battlefield.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This started off funny but got downhill fast, because I am apparently incapable of writing lighthearted material.
> 
> You can basically follow Green's thought process if you squint enough—I tried to write all Green and Red's interactions with their personalities in mind. Red hates seeing anyone in pain, while Green sees talking about his feelings the verbal equivalent of swimming through a pool of acid. They're kind of bipolar but then again they're twelve what do you expect.


End file.
